


In the Crystal's Wake

by avianscribe



Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: Cuddling, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Everyone's sad and they need each other okay, Gen, Gen or Pre-Slash, Hurt/Comfort, Platonic Cuddling, You Decide, Zegnautus Keep
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-15
Updated: 2020-04-15
Packaged: 2021-03-02 05:21:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,463
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23529826
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/avianscribe/pseuds/avianscribe
Summary: The Crystal sucked Noctis inside, leaving the others alone in Zegnautus. Now what?
Relationships: Prompto Argentum & Ignis Scientia, Prompto Argentum/Ignis Scientia
Comments: 16
Kudos: 43
Collections: FFXV Book Club 2020 Spring Exchange





	In the Crystal's Wake

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Crazyloststar](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Crazyloststar/gifts).



> I loved this prompt! You gave me a reason to write comfort, which I very much needed! XD I hope this is okay!

In the silence of Zegnautus, this one fact stood out: Noct was gone.

The three of them huddled together for a while where the Crystal shed its glow on the platform. They waited long after Ardyn had left, mysteriously whole despite the rounds Prompto had unloaded into him. Shooting Ardyn had been so incredibly satisfying, after weeks under his tender “care”… But then the monster just stood up again, dripping daemon goop like blood, and sauntered away.

Propmto hadn’t quite seen enough horrifying things to stave off the sick shiver of dread that curled up his spine as he watched Ardyn walk away from them.

Prompto had no sense of how long they waited there for Noctis to re-emerge, before they finally had to accept that he wouldn’t. Not yet. Who knew when. 

Gladio made the call to retreat, if at least to shelter in one of the Keep’s dorms. Ignis sat suspiciously silent, not saying anything -- not even _moving,_ at first, until Prompto tugged on his arm and helped him stand. They staggered out of the chamber where the Crystal hung like a cypher; an empty hole where their friend had disappeared. 

Prompto ached all over; from the loss, from endless battles with daemons -- from everything Ardyn had done to him. Every injury, fresh or half-healed, made its presence known as they made their way through the echoing halls. They hadn’t had a chance to really rest, since his compatriots had pulled him down from that metal torture tree. He needed to stay on his feet. Just long enough.

It had been weeks since the train, but habit was strong; Prompto put a guiding arm around Ignis’s waist as they stumbled along, their boots clanging against the steel floor. The two of them followed Gladio’s broad back through the maze of Zegnautus -- amazingly free of daemons, though Prompto still jumped at every sound around them. He half-expected to be ambushed around every corner.

He was so attuned to the sounds around him that a soft snuffling sound soon caught his attention. He craned his head around for a moment to find the source of it before he realized that Ignis was making it. He glanced at him.

Ignis trembled under Prompto’s hands. Silent tears coursed down his face under the shades he wore to hide his sightless eyes. Ignis’s teeth were clenched, his lips stretched away from them in a despairing curl. 

The snuffling was the only sound he made, but he wept, harder than Prompto had ever seen him weep. 

It was all Prompto could do to keep from weeping himself.

Yeah, Prompto had lost a friend -- his best friend, his _only_ friend for the longest time -- but he’d only known Noct for what, five? Six years? Ignis hadn’t just lost a friend; he’d lost his constant companion, the boy he’d known since he was six, the prince he’d been charged to guide and protect. Prompto had lost a friend, but Ignis had lost his purpose.

He shifted his arm to give Ignis’s shoulders a gentle squeeze. For a moment, it felt as though Ignis was going to pull away from him, but instead, Ignis leaned on him more heavily. Prompto guided him in Gladio’s wake and let him cry.

By the time they reached the dorm room, Ignis's silent weeping wasn't so silent anymore. Gladio spared him a pained glance, then retreated to the furthest bunk and sat heavily, his back to the rest of the room. Prompto didn’t begrudge him; he’d lost as much as Ignis had. 

Prompto steered Ignis to the bunk nearest the door, figuring it would be the least complicated for a blind man to navigate. He expected Ignis to curl up on it as soon as he sat, so he turned away to find his own bunk -- to give his two grieving companions their space. He could mourn on his own.

But before he took a step, Ignis grabbed his arm.

Prompto started to protest and pull away, but stopped at Ignis’s strangled “Please.”

“Igs, I--”

“Please… I can’t…” 

He couldn’t _what,_ Prompto didn’t ask… he could guess. Ignis couldn’t be alone right now. He needed the reassurance of someone close enough to touch, since he couldn’t see for himself. Prompto understood that all too well. He’d been strung up in a prison cell long enough; being free didn’t quite seem real.

If Ignis needed that comfort, who was Prompto to deny it?

So he sat at Ignis’s side, and Ignis didn’t let go of his arm. In fact, when Prompto twisted to give Ignis a reassuring pat, his other hand grasped Prompto’s other arm, and his head dropped to Prompto’s shoulder, and a trembling sob ripped from him. Prompto wanted to pat his back, to reassure him, but couldn’t reach very far with Ignis already gripping him tight enough to pinch, clinging to him as though he’d disappear too if Ignis let go.

And now that ignis wasn’t holding back his anguish, Prompto couldn’t either -- and at his first broken cry, Ignis pulled him into a hug, and soon they were clinging to each other, both of them wailing their sorrow. 

In time, Prompto’s bawling softened into small hiccups. For a moment, he regretted not having any sleeves, to wipe his dripping nose on -- but then, he imagined Ignis’s scolding, especially if he did it right in front of him. He gave a wet sniff -- and then Ignis shifted and pulled away, and slipped a hand into a pocket, and pulled out an honest-to-goodness handkerchief, embroidered with his looping initials.

Ignis groped for Prompto’s hand and pressed the handkerchief into it. Prompto pushed it back into his chest, and Ignis’s fingers curled around it. “You need it,” Prompto said, but his congested nose muffled his voice. 

Ignis sniffed. “I suspect you need it more,” he said. 

“Eh,” Prompto answered. “I’ll just grab some TP from the bathroom.” He started to stand to go get some, but Ignis grabbed his arm and pulled him back down again.

“Wait,” he gasped. “Don’t… don’t leave me.” 

There was a shift of mattress springs behind them as Gladio stood. “Stay there, kid,” he said, his voice rough. “I’ll grab you some.” His face was in shadows, but Prompto suspected he’d been weeping, too. He strode away to the bathroom. 

Then Ignis pulled off his shades and pressed his palms into his eyes. It hurt to see him like this, so… sunken. So vulnerable. Prompto hunched on himself and sighed, then tentatively reached out and patted Ignis on the back. 

“He’ll be okay in there,” Prompto said. “I mean… he’s the Chosen, right? The Astrals wouldn’t hurt him.”

“This isn’t… how it was supposed to be,” Ignis said. “He was going to use the Crystal to vanquish the daemons and hold the dark at bay. What will we do _now?_ How long must we wait?” He sighed, sharp and shuddering.

Prompto didn’t know how to respond to that, so he said nothing.

Gladio returned, and pressed a wad of tissue into Prompto’s hand. He glanced between the two of them. “You guys hang here; I’ll take watch and scout out the keep. It seems pretty quiet, but we don’t want to run into any more trouble on the way out.” 

Then Gladio slipped out into the hallway, and his boot steps faded away.

Prompto sat in silence for some minutes, while Ignis worked to compose himself. Then Ignis lay down on the cot and pulled Prompto down beside him. Prompto made a weak noise of protest, but Ignis wrapped an arm around his shoulders and pulled him tight. “Just…” Ignis said, his breath puffing into Prompto’s hair. “Indulge me, please. I need to know that someone is nearby, and this… is…” 

Prompto relaxed into his hold then, because he _understood._ And honestly, hadn’t known how to ask for the comforting touch he so much wanted. _Needed_. He relaxed then, and felt Ignis press even closer -- felt Ignis’s face against the back of his head. He teared up again.

“Apologies,” Ignis said. “This is… incredibly selfish of me, I’m sure--”

“Nah,” Prompto admitted shakily. “I… kinda need this too.” His voice was small; barely there. He wondered if Ignis could even hear it.

He shouldn’t have doubted, because Ignis made a soft sound. “We’re glad to have you back with us,” he murmured. “We’ll… we’ll get through this.”

By the slur in Ignis’s voice, Prompto could tell he was drifting off. Soon Ignis’s arm had relaxed its hold, and was instead a heavy weight on his side, and Ignis’s breath was slow and even against his hair. His own eyes were growing heavy, and he slipped off before Gladio returned, feeling warm and safe for the first time in ages.


End file.
